Page 29 of Grumpy Bear (Return To Fate Mountain #4)
Chapter
Twenty-Five
Henry traced the bite mark on Ivy’s shoulder with reverent fingers, still marveling at what they’d done. Ivy turned in his arms, her eyes glowing amber in the darkness. “Let’s run,” she whispered, her voice carrying an edge of wildness. “I need to feel the forest. With you.”
The invitation resonated through their new bond, primal and irresistible. Henry’s bear stirred immediately, eager to explore this new connection in their animal forms. Without a word, he rolled from the bed, pulling her with him.
Moonlight streamed through the cabin windows, painting their naked bodies in silver and shadow.
The night air kissed their skin as they stepped onto the porch, cool and crisp with the scent of pine and distant rain.
No shame or hesitation marked their naked exodus into the wild—their bears demanded this natural communion, this shedding of human constraints.
At the forest’s edge, they paused. Their eyes met, sharing anticipation through their bond—a thrumming excitement that needed no words. The shift flowed through them simultaneously, as if their bodies had been waiting for this moment for lifetimes.
Bones reshaped themselves, fur rippled across skin, forms expanded. Ivy’s human beauty transformed into something equally magnificent—a golden-brown grizzly with intelligent eyes that still held that spark of sunshine he loved.
His own bear emerged: dark, massive, built for strength. As he stood beside his mate, Henry realized his bear no longer felt alone.
They circled each other, learning this new dynamic. Ivy rubbed her muzzle along his shoulder. Henry responded, nipping at her ear playfully, testing their bond in this form.
Henry?
Her voice in his mind made him start. It was tentative but clear, carrying her distinct warmth even in thought.
I’m here, he responded, marveling at the intimacy of speaking mind-to-mind. They’d shared thoughts during the claiming, but this felt different—more controlled, more conscious.
Emotions flowed easier than words: joy, wonder, belonging. Brief flashes of shared sensation flickered between them—the cool earth beneath their paws, night wind ruffling their fur, the myriad scents of the forest coming alive in ways human senses could never comprehend.
They practiced simple communications as they began to move: Follow me. Look there. Beautiful.
Henry led at first, guiding her along paths he’d never shared with another soul.
These were his secret ways, routes carved by years of solitary patrol.
They moved as one being, perfectly synchronized without effort.
No stumbles or hesitation marked their progress—their bears knew each other completely, as if they’d run together all their lives.
They raced through moonlit glades where silver light dappled their fur, leaped fallen logs in unison, their powerful bodies working in harmony. The forest opened before them like a welcoming embrace, ancient trees seeming to part for the newly bonded pair.
After a while, Henry brought Ivy to his most private sanctuary—a hidden clearing dominated by an ancient oak that had stood sentinel for centuries.
The massive tree’s gnarled roots created natural shelves and hollows, while its spreading canopy filtered moonlight into lace patterns on the forest floor.
My refuge, he shared through their bond, memories flowing with the words. Images flickered between them: a younger Henry seeking solitude here. The same clearing in different seasons—snow-buried, rain-soaked, carpeted with fall leaves. Years of loneliness contained in this single place.
Ivy padded around the space, learning its contours with careful attention. She paused at a hollow in the oak’s roots where Henry had often curled up to sleep, then lifted her head to study the ancient tree’s scarred trunk.
Our refuge now, she said, reaching up to mark the oak with her claws, adding her scent to years of his.
Something loosened in Henry’s chest at those words. He’d guarded his solitude so fiercely, built walls so high, yet here was someone who didn’t want to tear them down but simply step inside them with him.
Ivy took the lead when they left the clearing.
Her knowledge of the mountain impressed him.
She brought him to a high ledge, where the valley spread below them like a secret revealed.
The view was spectacular—the river a silver thread far below, the forest canopy rolling like a dark ocean to distant peaks.
They played like cubs after that, chasing each other through moonlit clearings, wrestling gently to learn each other’s strength.
Henry discovered that while he was larger, Ivy was quicker, more agile.
She could dart and weave while he relied on power and endurance.
Each touch deepened their bond, thoughts flowing more freely until the boundary between their minds began to blur.
The night grew late, their bodies pleasantly tired from their run. Henry led them to a sheltered grove he knew well, where a natural hollow beneath evergreen boughs created a perfect den. Soft pine needles made a fragrant bed.
They circled the space together, their bears approving the security of the shelter. Henry settled first, his bulk creating a living windbreak. Ivy curled against him.
He rumbled contentedly, nuzzling her ear as their breathing began to synchronize. The forest around them settled into its night rhythm—the soft hoot of an owl, the whisper of wind through pine needles, the distant splash of something fishing in a stream.
They slept in their bears beneath ancient pines, guarding each other through the night. The forest itself seemed to sigh with satisfaction, as if something long out of balance had finally been set right.